Becoming Right
by Neferit
Summary: Forced apart, they meet again. Will their relationship become right? Spoilers for Ser Gilmore NPC mod. Sequel to "Wrong". Second part of Cousland/Ser Gilmore trilogy.


**A/N:** Continuation of "Wrong". Yes, this contains spoilers for Ser Gilmore NPC mod by DLAN_Immortality (mod can be found over at dragonagenexus_dot_com) as well as spoilers from the game plot. And it's long. Really. Consider yourself warned.

**Disclaimer:** Apart from my main character Andrea Cousland I own nothing. Daaaamn!

* * *

There were sounds of fighting, sounds of sword clashing together and voices, when someone hit his head hard and sent him into the darkness of unconsciousness. Now everything was swimming before his eyes, unfocused as they were; his head was pounding as if it was a legion of dwarven smiths who were waving their hammers in all possible directions. He could taste his own blood in his mouth and that made him feel even more dizzy. Someone noticed he gained consciousness again and dragged him into sitting position. He heard a voice, making his blood boil in his veins. Rendon Howe. Arl of Amaranthine. "... and I finally managed to get what was rightfully mine!" His focus slipped a bit when someone hit him again. "Pay attention, you worthless trash!" He desperately tried to focus - but everything went blurry again, earning him another hit. Then Arl finally stopped talking and another nightmare began.

Those injured too gravely were dragged aside and killed, the surviving servants; men, women, children forced to pile them and then set the bodies afire. His heart clenched when he saw Arl's men dragging bodies of Teyrn and Teyrna. He half-expected Andrea's body will be dragged out of the castle, too - but her body didn't appear. Arl just looked at the bodies and after a moment which seemed like an eternity, his expression unreadable, he nodded and his men added the bodies to the pile, burning all of them.

He prayed to be able to forget the happenings which took place afterwards. Arl recognized him as one of the important staff of the castle, so he was dragged back into the castle, into the prison cell. No, not dragged - more of being kicked around, crawling so he would escape more kicks. His ears were full of women voices; screaming, begging, whispering prayers. Never before had he felt so helpless.

**o.O.o**

His whole body was hurting from all the beating he received in the last few days. It was just one painful cycle. Slap, question, no answer. Slap, another question, no answer. To force him talk they switched to lashing. He won't answer those usurpers, those torturers, he thought. However... he had to escape, otherwise he'll die here.

And then the Maker finally took mercy over him.

"Look, my boy, at this prisoner. Thought he can stand against the Arl and his army. What a fool!" _Slap._ Slowly opening his eyes he saw a young man, probably about seventeen, looking sick who gazed at him with eyes opened wide, fear and disgust displaying in them.

When his torturer left the room for some time, he spoke to the boy, begged him to let him go. The boy didn't answer, looking fearfully towards the door. He almost abandoned all his hopes for escaping from Howe's grasp alive, when he heard the tiniest of sounds. A lock opened.

He was saved.

**o.O.o**

He had no idea how long he spent in the secret passage from the castle. He stumbled there and fainted. The darkness didn't show much, he barely made it out without hiting his head over the ceiling. After hours - as it seemed to him - he finally stumbled under the clear starry skies.

For a moment he was lost. Where to go? Then it was decided. To the south, to Ostagar. Teyrn's son Fergus went there. And Duncan, the Grey Warden who wanted to recruit him, was planning to go there as well. He had to escape, since he didn't see his body amongst the dead.

But Ostagar laid in ruins, the battle lost, the King dead and Grey Wardens marked as traitors, who caused King's death, when he arrived there. Just like centuries ago the Grey Wardens betrayed the King. Was he really so stupid that he wanted to join an order which was about to betray Ferelden King? Lost in thoughts he followed the other refugees and found himself in Lothering, a small town northern of Ostagar.

He was troubled by the thoughts of future. If Howe's men caught him, he would be in better case killed, in worse case tortured and then killed. His body still ached after all the torture he suffered in hands of Howe's men.

"Ser Gilmore?"

He knew that voice and would be able to recognize it everywhere. Swirling around he was almost knocked to the ground by the force of her leap towards him. "My lady!" Before he could do anything, she was hugging him tighly, making him wince at the pain it invoked. Marks of lashing were deep and still not completely healed but his heart sang at seeing her alive. "You're _alive_, you're alive," she repeated like some sort of manthra. "I thought I'll never see you again - and here you are!" She released him and looked up, her eyes bright with unshed tears. He fought the urge to caress her cheek and instead of it he grinned dryly. "Well, after the fall of the castle I was quite doubting that the survival of mine is in order. But somehow I managed to escape and went to Ostagar, to inform lord Fergus of what happened and try to join the Grey Wardens."

Her eyes fell when he mentioned Grey Wardens. "Well, I... I actually _did_ join the Grey Wardens."

It took him by surprise. When they talked about Grey Wardens in the evening before Howe attacked the castle, she seemed intrigued by Grey Wardens but not overly eager to consider joining. And a bit... _sad_? about him leaving to join the order. "You... did?" At her sheepish nod he exhaled deeply. "Then I believe all that is being said about the Grey Wardens now can't be true - you would never take part in anything like that."

"_'Anything like that?'_" asked a blonde man in scale mail, obviously Andrea's companion. No, not Andrea's - companion of lady Cousland. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Teyrn Loghain says that he retreated from battle already lost, saving half of the army in the process. And that the battle was already lost because the Grey Wardens betrayed the King." Silence. "We... _we_ would _never_ do this! _Duncan_ would never do this!" bursted the man. Andrea laid a comforting hand on his forearm, easing his grip on the hilt of his sword - and making him, Roland, to grit his teeth. "Calm down, Alistair. We have to stay focused, if we want to defeat the Blight." This made the black-haired woman in quite an... uncommon attire to snort in unlady-like manner.

"I hope, Ser Gilmore, that you don't believe this... this _nonsense_ of Loghain's," turned lady Cousland her eyes once again towards him. "We were there. I was one of the people present at the last meeting of war council. I've heard teyrn Loghain summing the strategy up. We, meaning I and Alistair, were to signalize the moment when teyrn's forces should join the battle from the tower of Ishal. But instead of joining the battle Loghain decided to let all of the soldiers, all of the Grey Wardens, his King to die there." Now he understood why some nobles used to call her Bryce's little spitfire amongst themselves. It was really a wonder that she didn't exhale fires out of her mouth in anger she was obviously feeling right now.

"My lady," he raised his hands in a _'I yield'_ gesture, "I didn't know what to believe. After all, it's Teyrn Loghain, Hero of River Dane, who says that. But," he added softly, "even if I was inclined to seriously believe what he says, the fact that you are one of those supposed traitors would made me reconsider." She calmed down and gave him a genuine smile, one he haven't seen - or better, one that wasn't aimed at him - for a very long time. "Thank you. Now," she changed the topic slightly, "what will you do now?"

He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Would you mind, if I joined you?" She gave him another smile, just like the one on his first day in castle Highever and nodded. It was all he needed to feel at ease again.

**o.O.o**

He followed her every step with careful eyes, her eyes watched him when she thought he couldn't see it.

They were on first name basis again. Roland. Andrea. How very great. How very _awkward_. He could see that she was full of questions about what happened after she left him in the main hall, trying to find her father. But he never answered those unasked questions. Not until she finally said: "Roland? Can I... can I ask you a question about what happened?" And so he told her everything, with her sitting close to him, holding his hand in hers.

Just when he thought he will break she asked: "Roland, do you remember the time I fell into the pond in the gardens?" Picture of her ten-year-old self, sitting amongst the water-lillies with a frog sitting on one of the plants nearby, goggling its eyes on her appeared in his memory immediately. And he smiled.

**o.O.o**

_Alone_.

In a land of little greenery, no animals... no people.

_Alone_.

No one likes him. Everyone hates him. Even his family can't stand him. That's the reason why no one smiles at him, gives him a gentle look, spends time in his company. Hiding his face in his hands he sat on the ground and wept.

Alone. Suddenly, he felt someone or something touching his shoulder. He didn't take his hands off his face, afraid of what he might see. And then he heard a female voice, strangely familiar. "Roland?"

He looked up carefully, still hid behind his hands. A young, chestnut-haired woman with worried brown eyes was gazing upon him, taking his hands off his face, pressing them gently. "Who are you?" he asked in a hoarse voice. "Who are you and what have you came to take from me?" She smiled sadly. "Roland? You don't recognize me? It's me, Andrea."

Andrea, Andrea... it sounded familiar, just as her voice. And then the memory dawned in his head. Little Andrea, flashing him a smile. Andrea, chasing him through the corridors because he stole her hairbrush again. Andrea, kissing him in the gardens. Andrea laughing. Andrea crying.

"Is that... really you?" He didn't need to ask. He knew it's her. She nodded and that's when she disappeared before his eyes. Before he could start panicking that he lost her she's back.

They were on a different place, together with others; Sloth demon, who imprisoned them here, in Fade, standing before them. He was not afraid.

He was not alone anymore.

**o.O.o**

It's time of celebration.

All four treaties had been collected, help promised. Now they feast and make merry with everyone else in Redcliffe, because soon comes time of the Landsmeet and armies marching against the darkspawn horde. He was so proud of her, since it was her drive what made it happen. And Maker, she was just so beautiful. It reminded him of the starry night years ago, back at castle Highever, when they bumped into each other. He sighed. _'Wishing for something what probably never happens again is pointless, Roland,'_ he thought. Yet it didn't stop his thoughts as he gazed upon the stars.

"Roland?" _'Ah, speaking about...'_ "Yes, Andrea?" he answered, turning to face her slowly. She wore one of the dresses Arlessa Isolde gave her, hair done by Leliana and at seeing her his stomach clenched. "A copper for your thoughts, Rory," she said teasingly. He hesitated. She was so much warmer towards him now, even called him Rory with that happy gleam in her eyes again - and that was something he missed after... well, after the day they were forced apart. They even talked about... their relationship. But still... should he really tell her what he was thinking about? Well, it probably wouldn't be worse than the terrible feel of embarrassment he felt after she asked him, if he was ever again in love after they broke apart. The look of utter surprise on her face when he told her he had been intimate with other women, even if he didn't love them, would be really priceless, if the whole situation wasn't so awkward back then. "If with them, why not with me?" How do you explain to someone that you wanted to wait for the right time to lay with her, when you had right to actually do so and that when you lost the chance of the miracle of being the first of your first, it didn't really matter anymore? Difficult talk, that one. It was just... they never lied to each other, no matter what.

In the end he started talking. "Do you remember how we talked about our... relationship from before?" After her nod he continued: "I told you how I felt that evening when I told you about my feelings towards you." She nodded again, her eyes unreadable. "Now... now I'm feeling the same way I did that night." She gave him a smile and whispered: "Rory..." But he couldn't stop talking. Not just yet. "Do we even have a chance, Andrea? Or is is already too late for us?" he blurted. Her eyes shone with tears just on the very edge. "No, Rory - it's not too late!" It was all he needed to hear before he crushed his lips against hers. Her hands sneaked up to weave themselves into his hair, pulling him closer. She filled his every sense. How sweet her mouth tasted, how soft her body seemed against his, the way her hair smelled after lillac, how silky its tresses were between his fingers. Neither of them knew how long their kiss lasted - when they broke apart, they gazed into each others eyes deeply.

"Stay with me tonight," said Andrea suddenly. Roland couldn't believe his ears. "I... are you," he stuttered, "are you sure about this, Andrea?" She just kissed him again and led him to her room. She was so calm and resolute - but when the doors closed behind them, he could see a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. But then she locked the door and all uncertainty disappeared in the midst of love, tenderness and passion. It was still dark when she fell asleep in his arms, with a smile on her lips. He studied her face carefully. Her skin had a slight tan, her previously unmarked face now sporting a small scar above her upper lip and a tattoo made by a Dalish elf. It punctuated her features nicely, instead of making her look ridiculous. What good deed had he done that the Maker deemed him worthy of a woman like her?

He let his thoughts slip away, holding her even closer. Slowly, he followed her into the realm of Fade. He should probably leave before anyone noticed that they spent a night together - but he couldn't bring himself to leave her.

There will be looks and smart comments, he was sure about it.

But they will face them together.

**o.O.o**

Great.

They only arrived to Denerim and Loghain simply had to march into Eamon's estate, accompanied by Ser Cauthrien and... _Howe_. He felt his blood burning in his veins when he heard the voice which still haunted his dreams and which only presence of Andrea could make go away.

"_I_ am the teyrn of Highever."

_No_.

Howe will never stay being a lord of the lands he had come to love. Roland had to lock himself in the room he and Andrea shared - that was quite funny incident itself, when Andrea asked him, if he would mind sharing his room with her; he'll never tire of seeing her blushing like that! - otherwise he would run down and kill Howe with his bare hands. But he couldn't. His revenge would lessen their position at Landsmeet - and it already wasn't overly strong. They will have to find some way to make their position stronger - and weaken Loghain's support.

Andrea came to their room then. "I'm sorry I wasn't there with you, my love," he spoke. She just gave him a sad smile and hugged him. "I know," was all she said.

Everything went blurry for him since then. Nobles at Gnawed Noble Tavern - bitter Arl Wulf, Bann Alfsanna, Bann Sighard and some others he didn't quite know or who didn't pay them much attention. The greatest surprise waited for them back at Arl Eamon's estate - servant of Queen Anora, Erlina, begging for their help, since the Queen was in danger. And held by Howe.

Andrea, him, Wynne and Andrea's dog, Lord, made their way to Howe's new Denerim estate. With Erlina's help they got inside, wearing uniforms of Howe's guards. And there was a catch to the Queen's rescue - a mage had locked the room she was in and left with Howe. Anora guessed they were in prison. Just the thought of prison made his stomach clench painfully. It got only worse by each step further into the depths of dungeon under Arl of Denerim estate. It was filled with smell of blood and fear, bodies of prisoners and... torturing devices. They found one still living tortured prisoner - one of the few banns' sons Andrea knew before. Oswyn, son of bann Sighard. The reason for him being here was that he knew that something wasn't all right with battle at Ostagar. They captured him and held him here ever since; never asking anything, just torturing him. Facing Howe later was... complete loose of control; his fury taking over as he listened to Howe's boasting about how much he deserved this. Before Andrea could do anything he was after Howe's throat, only a little aware of what was happening around. When Howe was bleeding to death on the floor, Andrea pushed him aside, stopping him from doing anything more.

"Maker spit on you! I... deserved _more_!"

What final words Rendon Howe chose. He didn't even noticed that he was trembling, until Andrea spoke to him. He looked at her, everything swimming before his eyes, seeing her lips move but not really hearing anything. And then the bubble he was in shattered as she kissed him, her taste, her presence calming him, getting him out of the shock.

Howe was finally dead. He won't torture anyone ever again.

**o.O.o**

Andrea got dragged away in shackles.

"You are charged with murder of Rendon Howe, Arl of Denerim, Warden. Surrender, and you may be shown mercy."

She only sighed deeply. "You don't know the whole tale, Cauthrien. I'll go willingly." This alarmed him. Yes, Ser Cauthrien had a unit of guards with her, together with one mage - but they could fight! She didn't have to surrender. "Andrea," he started, only to be shushed by the look in her eyes. "By fighting we will only strenghten their accusation against us," she said. "Come for me," she added, whispering.

He could only nod. While the guards took her away, they led the Queen quickly to Eamon's estate. All of them, Queen Anora included, were running as if there was a devil on their heels.

"Eamon! We've got problem!"

_'And that is only one way how to put it, my Queen.'_

**o.O.o**

He got her from Fort Drakon just in time.

Pretending to be a man who was supposed to bring another Mabari hound into the kennels they got inside of the whole place pretty quickly - praised be Mabari and their intelligence. Just when he didn't know what to answer to the captain of the guards, Lord barked and that was obviously enough of an answer for the captain. Further in Fort Drakon he had to kill several guards - but as Andrea told him later, those spent quite some time by mocking her and even kicking her around her cell. If he felt a bit guilty before, he most centrainly didn't feel that anymore.

Landsmeet was closer by each passing moment. The only lead of possible discrediting of Loghain was supposed to be in Alienage, since there appeared some unexpected problems. They will go there tomorrow. But tonight, he will just hold Andrea close and guard her sleep.

**o.O.o**

Both of them were seething with rage.

The troubles in Alienage showed to be rather suspicious help of Tevinter mages in case of some sort of plague. And it all proved to be just a masquerade. Masquerade for trading elves into slavery. And having them shipped to Tevinter Imperium. Killing of the main slaver, bloodmage, showed to be very... _satisfactory_, even if killing of people wasn't really right. But as Zevran once pointed out - "some people just need to be killed."

The elves didn't trust them in the beginning - only the fact that they released one of them, elf named Soris, from the dungeons beneath the Arl of Denerim estate brought them some acceptance from Shianni, Soris' cousin with wit as sharp as her tongue. Freeing at least the elves who were still in Denerim and not on some ship heading to Tevinter also helped.

Loghain's fall was close. And it will be from great height and it will be hard.

**o.O.o**

They made it.

Loghain was dead, defeated in duel by Andrea. The land was finally united under the threat of the Blight. Alistair was going to be King of Ferelden, chosen by Andrea. And he was furious about her decision, to put it lightly. Eamon's estate was ringing with all the yelling they put after they were left alone in the dining room, which was usually used for group meetings. Roland decided to stay close, standing behind the closed doors, just to make sure that neither of them did something foolish.

"How could you do that to me?"

"Ferelden needs you, Alistair! How can you not see that?"

"And what about what _I_ want? Why can't anyone look at _that_?"

"How dare you to say anything like that, Alistair! Just when did _you_ ever looked on what _we_ wanted, what _I_ wanted?"

"_What?_"

"Yes, you heard me right! You think that being a teyrn's daughter I had more choices than you, a bastard prince? You think I wanted to be a Grey Warden? You think I wanted to lead the whole time since Ostagar? Then think again!"

Silence followed. Silence, which was almost deafening after all the previous yelling.

"I didn't, Alistair." Her voice was soft now. "Everything I ever did was surrounded by rules and duty. There were rules about what a proper lady should wear and do. My sword training was one of the few things I was allowed to do unlike a lady. I was forced to part with Rory, because it wouldn't be proper for a teyrn's daughter to be with a son of not very important bann from Bannorn, no matter how much they loved each other and how much he was respected as a knight. And then, after Duncan almost dragged me from Highever Castle and I was made to go through Joining, I was forced to lead our small group through all that mess during the civil war, because you, a senior Grey Warden, would rather follow. Dammit, Alistair!" she stamped with her small feet. "I wasn't fitted to be leader no more than you were back then."

"But you are with Roland now, and are also an amazing leader," answered Alistair weakly. Andrea snorted in a very unlady-like way. "Yeah - and look what preceded it. My family dead or still missing, the whole castle probably destroyed, Rory captured and tortured by Howe, we almost killed in the Tower of Ishal and all that bloody bussiness with treaties - who wouldn't become a good leader, if they were forced to lead all the way?"

Another silence. "Point... taken," was all that Alistair said. Roland could hear tired steps, then sound of chair squeaking under weight of a human body. Female sigh. "Alistair - I know you feel betrayed right now. But I didn't make you a King of Ferelden without thought, as some kind of stupid revenge for all the silly jokes or just because Eamon suddenly decided that you must be the next King of Ferelden. I did it because I _know_ you. You will make a great King, you know. You only need to get used to the fact that this time it's you who's leading."

Alistair was silent for a moment. When he spoke, Roland could heard traces of humour back in his voice. "Yeaaaah - what a nice and definitely true thing of you to say. But," Andrea obviously wanted to say something, but Alistair didn't let her speak, "you are not going to get out of this so easily."

**o.O.o**

She felt like throwing up any moment.

As much as she came to kind of like Duncan of the Grey Wardens during the time she spent with him on the road to Ostagar, this made her definitely pissed off at him, as well as scared senseless.

"Do you know why it's a Grey Warden who must make the final blow?" asked Riordan.

She didn't know for sure. Neither did Alistair. But she took a guess. "It's the Taint within us," was the answer.

"This is the symbol of our strenght - and our victory," said said Duncan, handing the Joining chalice to Daveth, a moment eternity ago.

_'And our death.'_ This knowledge just had to come when it was the worst possible time, right in the evening of the March and Battle of Denerim. _'And just when I wanted to tell Rory...'_

This could be their very last night together, she thought as she made her way into the room she was given for the night. To her surprise, she didn't find Rory there - but Morrigan.

"Do not be startled - 'tis only I."

And she offered a solution, a way which would prevent death of the Grey Warden striking the final blow. There was a great catch, tho - Alistair would have to sleep with her.

_'How can I ask this of Alistair, since I've already forced him to be a King?'_ she thought frantically. Would she be a man, she wouldn't hesitate. The thoughts of death scared her - and she wanted to live, live,_ live_!

"Can't sleep?" Alistair was still quite cheerful, but the seriousness of Andrea's face made him stop before saying anything more and a strange foreboding came over him. _'I'm not going to like this, I'm not going...'_

"Alistair, we need to talk."

And he didn't like it. Not one bit. They argued for some time, why to do and why not to do it. Why. That was the question of the day. And then Andrea said something what made him to change his opinion when nothing else could.

"I'm pregnant."

She was expecting Roland's child... How it was even possible? The Grey Wardens were supposed to be sterile! This completely changed the situation - if Riordan didn't make it to the Archdemon, one of them will have to strike the blow. She wouldn't let him to strike the Archdemon - she just made him a King, she wasn't about to allow Anora become a Queen again. And he wouldn't let her to do that because of the child - if they died, how could he look into Roland's eyes ever again, knowing that not only the woman of his life, but also his child, are both dead because of him? He closed his eyes and sighed.

"I'll do it. Lets go to her before I change my mind."

They were saved.

**o.O.o**

Roland heard Morrigan saying about Grey Warden sacrifice. When Morrigan and a bit sickly looking Alistair departed, he made his presence known. Andrea clung to him like a child, refusing to let go.

He understood the urgency to have him close. He felt the same, knowing that even if Morrigan's ritual prevented her or Alistair from the ultimate sacrifice, they still could die during the siege. Terrifying thought. All thoughts escaped from their minds, as their lips met, heir clothes fell from them, as they fell to be, as their bodies joined in one. Whispers of promises of love lifted their minds from dark tomorrow. _'If only for tonight,' _he thought. _'If only to held her in my arms and let her know and feel how much I love her.'_

**o.O.o**

The dawn came before they knew, too soon for their liking. But Denerim had to be saved. At least what was left from the city. How could the Archdemon be capable of such a trick?

When the city was withing sight, all black and burning, Alistair made a speech. He was a bit unsure in the beginning. How do you want to say to the people that in great probability they will be dead by the evening? But from the unsure beginning he continued, adding more and more of his feelings that in the moment he yelled: "For Ferelden! For the Grey Wardens!" all of the people following were roaring their agreement with him.

The Darkspawns didn't know what hit them in the very first moments. Andrea, with Lord and Rory by her side, managed to fight her way towards the Denerim gates, cleaning the area of the Darkspawns. When she stood in front of heavily breathing Riordan, others running from all directions, she knew the situation is the worst possible scenario and they need to act quickly.

She picked her companions carefully. Morrigan should be as close to the Archdemon as possible, meaning that the other mage, Wynne, had to stay with the rest by the gates. Next, Roland joins her side, eyeing her tenderly, while Sten and Leliana were told to stay there and guard Wynne from harm. Oghrenn was going with her. Zevran, Lord and Alistair were going to stay by the gates, too. Alistair didn't like it, saying that he should be going with her - but Andrea silences him quickly. "You are the last line of defense, Alistair. Should Riordan and I fall, you are the only one standing between the rest of the world." The knowledge made Alistair look a bit green. There was not enough time for talking, so everyone said only a few words, before they left for the Fort Drakon.

_'Please, Maker, make me strong and my aim true...'_

**o.O.o**

He felt his heart stop when he heard her scream. The Archdemon was close to death now. And he was afraid.

The sword glistened in the light appearing out of nowhere. And then Andrea stabbed it through the Archdemon's skull. All of them, Morrigan, Oghrenn and he, stand outside the circle of white light that surrounded dying dragon and his conqueror, not knowing what to do. That was when the white light exploded and all of them were thrown to the ground.

**o.O.o**

The Blight was defeated.

The Blight was finally defeated and the whole Ferelden was rejoicing in coronation of the new King which was about to take place in Denerim.

And the ceremony is grand - every Bann, every Arl, everyone important enough is present to see Alistair Theirin walk up the stair to kneel in front of the High Priestess, who blessed his rule. His golden armor shone in the sun. Roland has seen the King, be it Maric or Cailan, only a handful of times and usually not closely - but he thought that Alisair looks every unce a King, especially after Andrea told him not to stoop and keep his head high.

_Andrea_.

She was there, too. Still a bit pale and favoring her right leg a bit but otherwise with a bright smile and radiating contentment. He kept looking at her, first kneeling in front of the new King, then standing when he proclaimed her his Chancellor. The nobles cheered. Some of them were obviously not overly happy to see another Grey Warden _'at the helm of Ferelden'_, so to speak. He noticed a familiar face, the same chestnut-colored hair, the same brown eyes.

_Fergus_.

Andrea noticed him, too, when she was coming down to speak with her friends. Forgetting about everything and everybody else, she run to her brother, hugging him tight. Two last Couslands finally found each other. Roland could see them going a bit to the side, their eyes full of tears even as they were laughing. He felt a bit like intruder of their reunion, no matter that he wasn't standing close. Just when he thought of leaving the feast, a gentle hand rested on his shoulder.

"Roland?" It was Andrea, her eyes still wet - but the fact that he was the very next person she seeked warmed his heart. "My love." Caressing her cheek, he asked her about her next plans. Apart from being a Chancellor and even a Commander of the Grey, she had only one plan. "I hoped the Hunter's Fell to be my home. With you." Happy, so very happy he felt after hearing her words. Yet he hesitated a bit before his next question. "Andrea. Will you... will you marry me?" His words came in a rush - but she understood. Throwing her arms around him, she laughed. "Yes, Rory, I will." Now it was she who hesitated. "I just... I have something to tell you." She was nervous, so much nervous that it made him uneasy as well. But her next words made him the happiest man on Thedas. At least he felt so. "I'm pregnant, Rory."

He lifted her in his arms and made several spins. "My love, is that... is that even possible?" Not wanting to attract much attention to them, he put her back on the ground and whispered to her: "We will talk later, Andrea. Now, it's time for you to show to the people. And then we will celebrate. Just the three of us."

Oh, they_ will_. She planned to hold him to that!

**o.O.o**

Their wedding took place in next few days, neither of them wanting to wait. Fergus made himself clear with "you hurt her, I hurt you." But he was looking forward to be an uncle. But both, Andrea and him, could see how much is the thought of returning to the empty and burnt halls of Highever castle weighing on the young Teyrn. There were too many memories, too much blood there to face there that both, he and Andrea promised Fergus to spend some time there and help him reconstruct the whole place after they spend some time with Roland's father, Bann Gilmore, who was looking forward to seeing his son again, as well as meet his daughter-in-law.

There was laugh, there were tears, there were many happy hours with remembering those who were murdered on that fateful night. Lady Orianna and little Oren. Teyrn and Teyrna. Mother Malol. Nan. Soldiers. Servants. Knights. Lady Landra. Iona. Dairren. All of them died that day and didn't have proper burial.

Sometimes it was too much for Roland or Fergus and Andrea had to keep them all strong. "There is already new life here," she would say and lay her hand on her growing belly with a small smile. And they would return that smile and feel a bit better again.

When the child was born, the whole teyrnir celebrated the birth of little crying bundle with the hair as flaming as his father's. "Welcome to Thedas, little Roland," Andrea said, making her husband gasp in surprise. She looked into his eyes. "Now I have two Rolands to take care of me. And both of them have the same hair which will make it easy for me to find them in a crowd."

They knew that her duties as a Grey Warden Commander will force her to leave soon. But now, both of them were just happy.

* * *

**A/N:** I blame my lack of updates for "Time for Change" on Ser Gilmore. It's completely his fault that all the plot Darkspawns I'm chasing always run to him. Huh. Oh, and I would almost forget - please, if you spot any error or typo, please, let me know, so I can correct it. Thank you!


End file.
